If you Close Your Eyes
by Technical Technicalities
Summary: Would it feel like nothing happened? If he could just try hard enough, maybe everything could go back to normal, and he would have his super best friend back. (Takes place during "You're Getting Old and Assburgers (Story request for Heidi28))


A/N: Guess who's late-night writing about Stan and Kyle again!

...

...

Craig, that's who.

Well, anyway, story request from Heidi28!

EDIT: Weird-ass ending.

* * *

Stan looked around, seeing shit everywhere. He sighed, wondering if this was his life now. Everyone had left him, even his super best friend. Guess they weren't really super best friends anymore. Pausing, Stan glanced at the sights around him. There were pieces of shit walking little pieces of shit, and sitting down on shitty park benches. He rubbed his eyes over and over, but couldn't get rid of the fact that everything seemed like complete fucking shit.

He sighed again, wondering how Kyle was doing, even if their friendship was over. He just couldn't stand the fact that Kyle was spewing literal shit everywhere, and walked away. He could vaguely hear Kyle's last words: "Great Stan! Fucking throw away friendship since preschool! I don't need your fucking bullshit anyway! I tried to put up with you, but all you did was be an asshole and throw it away! Fuck you Stan!" What Stan, in fact, did miss though, were the tears in Kyle's eyes while saying that.

As soon as Stan walked away, Kyle stood there, shellshocked. He was shocked that Stan had thrown away their friendship over a weird illness, shocked that Stan seemed to care less about him. Shocked that they weren't super best friends anymore, as they had always promised they would be. Kyle shoved his hands in his pockets and decided to go home; Perhaps he just needed time, along with Stan.

* * *

That night, Kyle picked at his dinner. His mom, being the overprotective and over obsessive mom that she is, immediately asked Kyle what was wrong. "I lost a good friend of mine today."

"Who Bubala?" (A/N: Sorry if I spelled that wrong; I'm not Jewish) Sheila asked.

"Stan." Kyle replied and looked down. His mother patted his back.

"It's just another fight Kyle. You kids will make up." Sheila reassured her son. Kyle retained what little emotion he had before.

"Maybe. I'll go talk to him tomorrow." He said, and Sheila smiled, then went back to eating.

"Bacon is love." Ike randomly commented.

* * *

Stan skipped dinner that night. He just didn't feel like eating shit. He heard his parents yelling at each other downstairs, and sighed heavily. He realized that he had been sighing way more than needed to, but it's not like you could really smile when you're surrounded by shit.

He put his hands under his pillow and used them to prop his head up, and continued to stare at the ceiling. Stan wondered if he closed his eyes, everything could go away and everything would go back to the way it was. It didn't work, obviously.

Stan flipped over, and looked at a poster that had a football player that looked like shit on it._ "Why won't somebody come and get me through this nightmare?" _He thought as he still laid in his bed.

* * *

Kyle felt nervous standing on Stan's doorstep. Even though it was Friday night, he couldn't help but wonder if Stan was home or not. Probably not, "if everything was shit" but it was still an open possibility.

Nervously, he rapped his knuckles on the door. Seconds later, Stan's mom answered the door. "Are you here to see Stanley?" She asked on default, since Kyle had come over so many times before. Kyle nodded yes. "Maybe you could get him to come out of his room."

Kyle stepped inside and walked up to Stan's room, then knocked on his door. "Stan?" He asked.

* * *

Stan sat in his bed, surprised that Kyle was here. He didn't answer, in fear of Kyle coming in and Stan viewing him as crap. "Stan?" He could hear Kyle ask again. Stan put his hands over his eyes and put them on his knees. Moments later, he heard his door unlock and some footsteps padded to his bed. Stan finally looked up, and he was surprised again; Kyle wasn't made of shit. Kyle jumped onto Stan's bed and sat next to his super best friend. "I didn't mean any of that bullshit I said earlier." Kyle immediately said. Stan still didn't want to say anything, because maybe, if he talked, Kyle would become shitty again. Kyle was silent too.

For a short bit, they sat on Stan's bed, unsure of what to say. However, it was Stan who broke the silence. "I'm sorry too." He kept it short.

Kyle played with his fingers much like how Butters always did. He bit his lip, not sure on why he decided to come over in the first place. Kyle stared at the ground, along with Stan.

"Uh...so...how is it?" Kyle asked, attempting to have at least some sort of conversation with his super best friend.

"Shitty." was Stan's reply. Kyle frowned. He wondered how it was to see the world as shit. It was definitely something he wouldn't want to experience, but he wondered how Stan was putting up with it.

After a short while of sitting awkwardly on Stan's bed, Kyle tentatively reached an arm out, offering to give his best friend a hug or not. This didn't happen often, since both of them were guys, and most likely, they'd be attempting to beat each others' asses in video games, rather than consoling. However, this was one of those rare times where it was Kyle who offered a hug. Stan, of course, pushed Kyle's arm away and continued to stare at the floor.

Kyle rubbed his arm, sort of embarrassed now, especially because he didn't know how to make Stan feel better. "Uh..." Kyle got up to leave, not knowing what to do anymore. He exited the room and Stan frowned.

Kyle shuffled out of Stan's house as quickly as possible. Whatever was going on with Stan was beyond Kyle's comprehension, and if Stan didn't want help anyway, then, who was Kyle to try to drag him to the doctor again? Or offer to talk to him? Kyle didn't need his shit anyway.

* * *

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit that he had become accustomed to. Looking around his room, he realized that he was living in his own personal shit-covered hell.

To be honest, Stan just wanted his old life back, or the life he had barely a week ago. What had he done to deserve this weird twist in genes? Why couldn't Cartman have it? He was the one who most likely belonged in Hell.

Stan flopped back onto his bed. Maybe, if he closed his eyes, and kept them shut, everything would go back. Nothing would change at all (A/N: You're cool if you got that song reference).

Yeah, if he closed his eyes, the whole world would go away, and maybe in another world, Kyle would still be his super best friend forever.

* * *

A/N: I'm great at crappy endings...

Sorry this took so long Heidi28, but, life...you know? Just life.

I just can't write any good stuff anymore...


End file.
